


batter up: love in the time of bake-offs

by tulowhiskey



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Colorado Rockies, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Team as Family, Toronto Blue Jays, this is ridiculous (tm)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-13 19:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulowhiskey/pseuds/tulowhiskey
Summary: Two bakeries, both alike in (lack of) dignity, in f-Arizona where we lay our scene...





	1. opening day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spilborghs (carebearstare)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carebearstare/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [spilborghs (carebearstare)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carebearstare/pseuds/spilborghs) in the [boysofsummer18](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/boysofsummer18) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> pick your players (or your ships) if you want, but i want a domestic rivalry bakery au where one team runs a successful bakery, and then another bakery opens up down the street, ran by players from another team. the shops then compete for customers.
> 
> my favorite teams are the rockies and the jays, but if you think it'd be more fun with your team and their rival, have at it.
> 
> * * *
> 
> steph, i love you and i’m sorry. 
> 
> everyone else, please donut cake this seriously. i’m just a weirdough in constant knead of puns. (look, let’s just be glad this isn’t about cheese, ok?) 
> 
> anyway, i’ll add characters and pairings as i go instead of spoiling the end game now. more to come!

* * *

_00\. preseason_

When Ryan’s best friend decided to become a pastry chef, he was all in - mostly for the promise of free cupcakes. When the same best friend opened a bakery with his fiancé, he immediately volunteered himself to oversee quality control. And when that best friend walked away from the bakery, he pouted a little bit, but he walked away too - that’s what best friends do. He slept on Ryan’s couch until his lease was up, then they moved to a two bedroom, where he was delighted to learn you can take the boy out of the bakery but not the bakery out of the boy. Quickly, he grew comfortably used to oven-fresh baked goods for breakfast every weekday and became the envy of the entire sociology department - he’s still sure the still warm cherry danishes he shared with the department head on a rough morning when the budget cuts rolled down played a key role in the success of his thesis defense.

Then, rather suddenly, he moved - across the country, to Philadelphia. It was devoid of the incredible breakfast pastries to which he’d grown accustomed, but full of funding for his research, and - his support never wavered and never would, but he hadn’t expected to be getting phone calls from halfway across the country at 4am looking for his granny’s caramel blondie recipe.

“I… have no idea where it is, Troy. I’m pretty sure I left my copy with you. Did you look in the cookie-book?”

“Of course I fucking - oh. Shit, hang on.” The phone drops with a clatter as he dashes off to check again, realizing - yeah, that’s where he kept everything baking related, and, oops. The line picks up again a moment later. “Probably should have checked there before calling, huh? I’m sorry, Ry. It’s been a stressful week.”

Ryan sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “It’s okay. And… it’ll be okay. You got this, Strudel.”

That Troy doesn’t immediately shut him up when he uses the dumb nickname he’d been given while literally standing in a bakery over a decade ago is telling to his mood, just how nervous he is for the opening. That he replies the way he’s supposed to - according to Ryan - and never does, is even more revealing. “Thanks, Cookie. I wish you were home for this.”

“I do too. But you’ve got a great team in there, and you know I’ve still got your back. I’d remind you to call me anytime, but you clearly didn’t forget that one.” He teases but it’s fond, and he means it from the bottom of his heart. “Try to get some sleep, Troy. You’ve got a long week ahead of you.”

 

* * *

 

  
_1\. opening day_.

 

“Hmm, no… more to the left, I think. Maybe a couple inches higher?” Marcus tilts his head to the side, biting on his lip and holding back a little grin as Luke follows his direction from his place standing on a chair and adjusting the placement of the menu board behind the cash register.

Marco joins him, out of the kitchen to refill his coffee and taking a moment to appreciate the view himself. His shoulder - well, his upper arm, really, with their height difference - bumps against Marcus and he flashes him a knowing grin. “Nope… too high. Lower it a couple inches.”

They spend a few minutes like that, shoulder to shoulder, calling out arbitrary adjustments for the positioning, mostly just for the sake at staring at Luke for a little while. It’s distracting to the point of neither of them noticing when Troy comes out from the back, staring at them both blankly for a moment as they give Luke a new direction, his eyes rolling when he realizes exactly what they’re doing.

“Can I have my decorator back now, please? We need to get the cupcakes finished and into the showcase before opening.”

Marco jumps at his voice, grabbing his coffee and darting back into the kitchen with a mumbled apology - Marcus just grins. “Oh, Sugar Daddy. If your signs are crooked, no one’s going to read them. Trust me, I took a class. Lukey’s doing good work out here!”

Troy rolls his eyes, his typical frown more of a scowl since he’s stressed and quickly getting annoyed. “Of course you did. What did your class say about shamelessly throwing yourself at coworkers?”

“Find joy in your work.” Marcus grins, nodding towards Luke, still on a chair behind the counter with his back to them. “Found it.”

He can hear Marco laugh - cackle, really - from the kitchen and his grin widens, but Marcus knows when he’s pushed Troy too far and really does want him, and this place, to succeed. “That’s perfect, sweetheart - come on down, now. Sugar Daddy needs your pretty hands to work their magic.”

“ _Marcus_!”

“Sorry, sorry - I’ll be good.”

They both know he won’t, but at least he’s trying.

=

“DJ, come _on_! We gotta go!” Nolan practically hops from one foot to the other as he waits for his roomate to get ready.

He’s met with a blank stare as DJ grabs a hoodie and his keys, sure that even if he remembers to take his along, chances are they’d get left somewhere, or misplaced, or Nolan would end up wandering off and not coming home, leaving him locked out. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“You need to chill,” he replies flatly, despite knowing Nolan has exactly zero chill and probably isn’t capable of even half-chill. “I guarantee you, if we get there fifteen minutes after opening instead of ten, there will still be cupcakes.”

“Okay, but like, you don’t _know_ that.” Pauses, looking away as his voice lowers a bit, his nerves on edge. “And it’s not just about the cupcakes? You know it’s not.”

DJ sighs, trying not to roll his eyes. “It’s our day off, Nolan. We can go wherever we want. I don’t care if Cargo gets bitchy about it.”

“You don’t _get_ it, DJ!” Nolan huffs, running a hand through his hair, frustrated that he doesn’t understand but even more so that he can’t explain it to him for several reasons. At least DJ knows he’s eager to please and sensitive to criticism, so for now, he’ll hope that’s enough to make him not ask for further explanation.

The last thing DJ wants is to upset him and he softens when he hears the distress in his tone. “Okay, relax, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

It’s a cool morning with a damp chill in the air, and even if Nolan’s freezing, he’s glad for the excuse to bundle himself up to the point of being unrecognizable as they start out on their walk across town. He pulls his knit hat down over his ears and flips a hoodie up over that, hoping to go unnoticed.

They’re about halfway there, and - of course he couldn’t get that lucky, a black jeep pulling up alongside them with the window rolling down.

“So are you idiots going to walk another mile and a half, or do you want a ride over?”

Nolan recognizes the voice immediately and freezes, eyes widening at DJ. He answers with a shrug, then looks toward the car with a wave while Nolan puts his face in his hands, even if it’s pointless trying to hide now. It’s more exasperation really, which grows when DJ steps around him toward the car.

“DJ! Are you kiddi -”

“Chill, Nolan.” Like DJ, Otto is well aware that chilling is absolutely not a thing he knows how to do, but also like DJ, he’ll keep saying it and maybe someday, they’ll all witness a miracle.

Chris is in the driver’s seat, and leans over to catch Nolan’s eye, giving him a reassuring smile. “Hop in, come on. If Carlos has a problem, I’ll talk to him, alright?”

He doesn’t like it, but if Chris is willing to take the fall for them, and more importantly, to talk Carlos down when he finds out and gets pissed off that they went, he won’t argue with him, and climbs in next to DJ with a sigh.

DJ reaches over, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly as they pull back into the light morning traffic. “I really don’t think he’ll get mad, Nols. And you know those cupcakes are gonna be worth it.”

Nolan can only answer with a tight smile, hoping he’s right.

=

The morning has been surprisingly steady for a soft open, but Troy’s reputation as a baker precedes him. And, despite how fueled by thirst he may seem, Marcus is good at what he does too, and has been teasing the opening of Sugar Daddy’s Cupcakes and Confectionery on social media for weeks.

Troy’s finally taking a break in his office - a repurposed broom closet where _everyone_ takes their breaks if they don’t go out front, really - texting Ryan about the morning so far, when he hears Marcus call to him with an agitated tone. It’s more worrisome than if he’d sounded upset or nervous, so much so that he doesn’t finish reading the message he just got, sending a quick _stro’s pissed sos!!_ and leaving his phone behind. He’s great at what he does, but his temper is hot, and the only person who can cool him off fast, every time without fail - Ryan - is halfway across the country.

He’s not the only one who knows Marcus enough to catch that tone in his voice, Kevin coming or from behind from the proofing racks to investigate, and Marco lingering by the doors to the front. Even Luke, the one person who hasn’t known them outside of the bakery, has set down his piping bag and is looking between them in slight concern.

“It’s cool guys, I’ll take care of whatever -“

Marco places a hand on his chest before he can go through the doors, having seen what’s out there and giving him a serious look. “Troy, it’s some of the guys from Hey Batter Batter - _he’s_ not one of them, but I don’t know who anyone else is. I can - do you want me to take care of it?”

He’d stopped at Marco’s touch, then froze at the name of his old bakery, thinking the worst until he was reassured he wouldn’t be coming face to face with his ex out there. His heart is still pounding, but he leans over to peek out the slats of the shutter style doors, and relaxes immediately, a rare smile crossing his face. “It’s cool - you just don’t recognize Chris without his hair,” he laughs, the three of them graduating together from the same pastry arts program years ago. “Can you do me two half dozen boxes of the white mochas? Throw some extra white ganache on top for one, easy on the icing but extra coffee crumble on the other.” Marco nods and motions to Luke to help, and Troy pushes through the swinging doors, his smile brightening upon seeing his old friends.

“Uh, Daddy? Enemy lines have been crossed, you want me to toss ‘em?” Marcus asks, jaw set, a defiant look on his face. They’re all at least six inches taller than he is, but that doesn’t faze him in the least.

“Stand down, soldier, we like these ones.” Troy addresses Marcus and that mess waiting to happen first then, looks pointedly at the ringing phone - and he can’t be sure, but by the way he calms down right away when he answers, Troy’s pretty sure it’s Ryan answering his SOS. That warms him from the inside, but more importantly right now, makes it easier to turn his attention to the four gathered in front of the showcase. Chris and Adam - Otto to most, but Troy’s known him too long for that to stick - have been in touch, but he hasn’t seen the younger two in ages. He’s not mad about it or anything - it happens, especially in messy breakups, and especially when work and friends and relationships are all so intertwined - but he’s always going to give them shit about one thing or another.

“I knew if I put the white mocha on the menu, you little brats would finally come see me.”

DJ snorts back a laugh, but Nolan kind of looks like someone threatened to kick his puppy and Troy softens right away.

“Oh my God, come here… I’m not mad! I’m happy you guys came, come here.” He holds an arm out and Nolan’s tentative but goes to him, hesitating just a little before wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging back, settling in easily against him for a long moment. DJ takes a turn next, and they may have met up for drinks a few weeks ago, but Adam and Chris still get hugs too.

Marcus is still on the phone - it’s definitely Ryan calming things down, and it’s probably the late nights catching up to him and the heightened emotions coming with a visit from his old friends, but Troy has a lot of feelings about that. Shakes it off though, slipping behind the counter and fixing coffees for everyone, quietly surprised he remembers how they all like it.

It must be old - well, he still works there and probably still has the same role, but old to Troy - habits kicking in when Nolan comes over to show him how to refill the cream dispenser while Marcus is still on the phone, glaring all the while. Troy gives him a look, then turns to Nolan, thanking him for his help then resting a hand on his arm. They’d always been close, and - he won’t say it, because he knows it would hurt the kid more than anything, but he was one of the people he’d missed most, one of the casualties of the break up that cut the deepest. “Hey - I’m really glad you came out, Nolan. It means a lot. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Nolan looks at him for a minute and there’s something in his eye that makes him think maybe he should be worried, but it passes quickly and he nods, giving him his usual bright smile. “As long as you keep the white mocha on the menu, I won’t be able to stay away.”

As if on cue, Marco comes out of the kitchen, wordlessly handing Troy the two boxes they’d finished putting together and disappearing again. Troy grins, sliding the one marked ‘+CC’ to denote the extra coffee crumble Nolan’s way, picking up the other to deliver to DJ along with everyone’s coffee, nodding for Nolan to follow.

“As long as _you’re_ receptive to sugar loaded bribery, you’ve got a deal.”

 


	2. homestand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wanted this chapter to be funnier than it ended up, but here we are. better luck next time, me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost 3 weeks late, but happy birthday Steph! <3
> 
> * * *
> 
> this is short and not proofread, but i'm tired of this chapter. sorry friends.  
> =  
> keeping this mostly PG, but in the interest of warnings: there is mention of a questionable relationship, please see bottom note.  
> 

Nolan’s been off for three days, a whole long weekend while the students manned the coffee and counter, and it’s not that he’s _trying_ to avoid confrontation and hide from his boss for fear of getting caught fraternizing with the competition, except - that’s _exactly_ what he’s been doing all weekend. Luckily, the schedule works in his favour - it’s Monday, and Carlos - Cargo, to his friends, which Nolan... at least thinks he is? - always takes Monday off. 

Or, he always did. Last week and every week for the last three years and a half years since Nolan had been employed at the bakery, but that was when they didn’t have new competition - stiff competition, no less - opening less than a mile away, helmed by the co-founder of Hey Batter Batter, who incidentally happened to be Cargo’s estranged ex-fiance.

So Nolan really should have expected the shake up to his routine, given the circumstances. And it’s a good thing the bag of coffee beans he’s started grinding is nearly empty, because it drops to the floor and spills at his feet as he’s startled by the familiar voice of his boss. 

“Hey Nolan. Busy weekend?” 

“Oh! Shoot - fu - dammit! Sorry!” He’s quickly flustered, stumbling over even his own exclamations of surprise and scrambling to get a broom and dustpan. 

Cargo watches him with a neutral expression, and it’s unusual that he’s neither teasing nor reassuring as Nolan cleans up his mess. In case Nolan wasn’t on edge enough just knowing where he’d gone and feeling guilty about it, now he’s _sure_ Cargo knows. 

“Um - yeah. Yeah, my brother’s in town, so. We were out a bit.” And that wasn’t a lie, technically, just - he’d only shown up Saturday afternoon, and Nolan had been taking pains to make himself scarce since he left at the end of his last shift a good 45 hours before that. He forces a small smile, and he hopes it’s as bright as ever. “How was your weekend?” 

There’s a long pause while Cargo looks at him, something unreadable in his expression. But he doesn’t seem angry, or even suspicious - if anything, he’s almost apologetic. “Fine. It was fine.” He quiets again, and after a moment just motions towards the doors to the kitchen, or really, the offices behind that. “I have to - paperwork.” 

Nolan nods and gives a little wave, relieved that he’s gotten through the interaction unscathed. And then Cargo pauses at the doors.

“Come back to the office before you leave today?” 

It seems like an innocent question, friendly even, more so than a demand, but Nolan’s caught off-guard. He freezes, eyes wide as he swallows back his nerves to answer, quietly surprised by how casual his voice sounds when he does. 

“Sure, of course.” 

Cargo looks at him for a moment, still unreadable until a small smile crosses his lips just before he disappears through the kitchen doors. 

= 

Just as it’s been for the past few weeks, the old boss’s new bakery is the hot topic in the kitchens all morning. And everyone’s got an opinion, of course - stronger now that it’s actually open and that a few of them have actually visited. 

“I just - I can’t believe you went. I can’t believe you went and you still have a job. Loyalty! Means nothing!” Gerardo is more aghast than anything, and no one’s really surprised by that - he’s not the type to get angry, but Carlos has been one of his best friends from a young age and he’s always been notably protective of him.

But he’s not the only one with connections that go way back, and Otto bristles at the assertion, always growing surly when talk of the divide comes up and understandably defensive when he’s expected to be on one side or the other. “You’re fucking kidding me right now, right? Because I swear to god -” 

They haven’t quite come to blows about it, but it’s not the first time tensions have escalated between one of Cargo’s closest friends and one of Troy’s oldest. As usual, it’s Chris who steps between them, diffusing the situation before it really sparks with his calm and steady tone, a hand on Otto’s shoulder as he reminds Gerardo and everyone else that no one _has_ to pick sides, and a lot of them have old ties to both men. 

Gerardo is less than receptive to that - again, as usual, only made worse this time knowing Chris had gone over there too - but he knows it’s not a fight he can win. It’s not a fight anyone can win once Chris steps in, neutral and unwaveringly cemented in that position. So he doesn’t reply, throwing his hands up in frustration and storming away, agitated and muttering to himself in Spanish as he goes back to his station. 

The whole kitchen stays thick with tension, but with Carlos locked in the office and Chris effectively declaring the issue closed, the conversation is dropped and everybody gets back to work. 

=

Sitting in an office all day filling out paperwork is absolutely _not_ what Carlos thought he was signing up for when he opened a bakery with his ex, and back in the day it wasn’t so bad - they’d take it home and work on it at dinner, or come in together early to go over it with coffee and bagels straight from the oven, or - 

“Fuck _right_ off with that,” Carlos mutters to himself, audibly interrupting his train of thought and steering it back onto a track that - hopefully, God willing - doesn’t lead to _him_. Though these days, unfortunately, most of them do. And these days he’s fucking lonely, and his asshole brain? Not helping. His asshole ex, coming out of whatever hole he’d been in, to get back on his radar? Also not helping. And his asshole bakers, reminding him over the weekend that there’s a new bakery in town that’s just as good as his, and more infuriatingly, that his ex couldn’t stay out of a goddamned kitchen and it really was their relationship specifically that he’d left - not helping either. 

Well. They didn’t _say_ that, of course. But Chris had told him quite candidly that he and Otto had paid a visit and he couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed by the pair. Regardless of their history with his ex, they’d been here from the very beginning and stayed with him through all the ups and downs, the hellscape of his past year included. They _knew_ how much he’d struggled with all of it. 

And, yeah - just the fact that Troy had opened a new bakery a few blocks away made it pretty clear, it wasn’t the industry or the hours, or fatigue of the baking itself that he’d walked out on - it was Carlos. Nothing more. 

His hand, tattooed with a flower in shades of gray to remind him of humility and nuance and calming the hell down and seeing the beauty in things, slams onto the top of the desk and he gets up, pacing the small office for a moment. He throws himself back into his desk chair and clenches that same fist, staring at the ink until it settles him down and he can get back to whatever it was he was doing before those intrusive thoughts kicked in. 

Right - paperwork. Not what he signed up for, just what he got stuck with. The paperwork was shit, and he’d been back here all day, and - Nolan was off seven and a half minutes ago, and he’d agreed to come back before he left, so what the fuck was holding him up? 

Carlos is about to go get a coffee - and by get a coffee, he means use coffee as an excuse to see what’s taking so long, and make sure Nolan hasn’t snuck out before coming back, and to get away from this godforsaken desk and the endless pile of paper he’s faced with - when there’s a gentle knock on the door. 

“Cargo?” 

He’s on his feet in an instant, pulling the office door open to a surprised and slightly nervous looking Nolan, a paper cup of coffee in each hand. Wordlessly, he holds one out and waits for Carlos to take it before he’ll step inside, stammering an explanation when he doesn’t reach for it right away. 

“You’ve, um - you’ve been back here all day, I thought - you didn’t go get lunch or anything - so, I just - you probably - needed something?”

Carlos stares at him for a moment, not sure why he’s so high strung today and wondering if something happened over the weekend. He doesn’t ask - but he’ll do what he can to temper it, reaching out and taking both coffees, placing them on his cluttered desk. His hands move to Nolan’s elbows then, each taking a side and guiding him across the threshold, gently kicking the door shut once he’s inside. 

He thinks, and _means,_ to answer. To assure Nolan that nothing’s wrong and his bad mood has nothing to do with him, to explain why he’s been hiding away back here all day, to tell him he had missed him more than he really should have while he was off the radar over the weekend.

But he really just doesn’t want to think anymore, after doing little else all fucking weekend. 

So he doesn’t say anything, instead taking a step to close the gap between them, willing his mind quiet and letting his senses take the lead. They guide his lips to Nolan’s and he stills there until he can feel him relax into the kiss, returning it a moment after that. 

And it’s hard, but he tries to ignore that voice in his head telling him this is a bad idea - specifically, that doing this here and now is a bad idea, because he’s been doing ‘this’ for months, just not here - _never_ here. But that voice can shut the fuck up and let him have something nice for once. 

It doesn't, of course, but that clearly hasn’t stopped him yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning Notes: This chapter (and future chapters) features an established secret relationship with questionable power dynamics in the workplace, aka a boy and his boss.


End file.
